Love and Longing
by Jiodaxa
Summary: John Harrison was a captain of Starfleet until the day he committed treason. Amelia was his first officer, though she always wanted to be something more. Heartbroken, she has to hunt down the man she loves. Khan/OC
1. Chapter 1

I own nothing. For this story I decided to completely disregard the fight in the USS Vengeance and everything after (even though I loved it in the movie), focusing instead on Khan and his complicated feelings for his first officer. Basically, it's just an excuse to pair him up with someone and write some fluff... I feel no shame.

* * *

Amelia was still in shock.

People said the man she had known for years, her teacher, her captain, was a terrorist. Her head knew the veracity of the statement, but her heart was in denial. John Harrison's eyes were often cold and his demeanor spoke of barely leashed strength and anger, reminding her of a caged tiger, but not in a million years had she thought it meant something far more sinister than a short temper.

Sometimes she swore she could see that rage he kept so well-hidden, in the way he fought, in his stance, in the bruises he left behind. Amelia should have seen where it would lead, should have known something dark was clawing inside her captain, attempting to leave the confines of his body to wreak havoc on the world. Instead, she had been blind, allowing him inside her heart, a feeling he didn't return and had left her wanting more.

Now she knew why, why he kept everyone at arm's length, why all his relationships were ground on distance, why the very air around him had warned people away. He couldn't allow sentiment to ruin his plans, though perhaps he was even incapable of such a thing. He definitely avoided expressions of affection, not only towards her, but his entire crew. He did right by them, certainly, and he was an authoritative figure, though practically unreachable and capable of frightening her at times. He frightened the others too. Despite the fact that he never harmed a man or woman in his crew during the three years she served under him, they were all still fearful of his reactions and moods.

Amelia thought he despised that attitude, and those who acted on it. She had been one of them, afraid of her captain at times, but she also knew not to let him walk all over her. She had her opinions, her way of doing things, and the autonomy to make decisions, and not even a high commanding officer like Harrison would rob her of that.

He was brilliant and strong, and Amelia often got the feeling he considered himself to be better than her and every single member of Starfleet. The worst part was that he was probably right. No one had his mind, his power.

No one hit as hard too, that was for sure. Amelia was still sporting a shiner where he had struck her. Her ribs were equally bruised by a punch that stole the air from her lungs, and he didn't give her time to gather her thoughts before putting his hands on her throat, gripping it in a tight vise until all she could see was those icy blue eyes, the pretense gone, his features hard and unforgiving.

Amelia had awoken in the hospital after that, confused as to her surroundings and with the tangy taste of blood in her mouth. Her bottom lip had cracked from the first punch, ached as she grimaced from the pain in her head. It was in the hospital that she learnt of Harrison's attack on a meeting of high ranking Starfleet officers. She should have been there. She would have, if not for what he did to her. Amelia didn't understand the reason behind both actions.

She had been discharged in the very same day, though her superiors had insisted she took a few hours to rest peacefully in her apartment, away from everyone else, in preparation for the difficult questions she would have to answer at the end of the day. She had been a little worried about those orders, concerned they might signify a lack of belief in her innocence, a suspicion that since she worked for Harrison, was his first officer and the person he counted on to carry out tasks of importance, she must have been working with him now as well.

Had she known her captain's intentions? _No_. Was she privy to his plans? _No. _How could she not see what he was? _How could I?_ The interrogation was brief, thankfully. The rest of the crew was questioned as well, though the search for accomplices, or even mere suspects, led nowhere.

John Harrison was working alone. Amelia found it almost poetic. He had a team, was part of a crew, but he was, first and foremost, an individual who prided himself of sovereignty over his and everyone else's actions, and a man like that had no equals. He had hidden that part of himself, but in retrospect it was easy to see he preferred his own company and avoided familiarities with his men, though he enjoyed a match of chess nearly every single day. Maybe it was a matter of putting his trust in people he viewed as inferior, something he clearly was unable to do. Maybe he simply didn't want the companionship.

Either way, only John Harrison was to blame for the attacks.

Amelia touched the discoloration around her eye, stared at it in the bathroom mirror, a dark mar on pale skin, and flinched when pain lanceted under her skin. She left the bathroom, still wrapped in a towel, and sat on the bed, not quite knowing what to do until her next mission.

She had been transferred to the U.S.S. Enterprise and would start her new duties briefly. Admiral Marcus had told her it wasn't a demotion, seeing as she would still be a commander, but Amelia knew better. On the Enterprise she would serve on the bridge but she was no longer the first officer. Her duties were those of a lieutenant.

The anger at the downgrade went unvoiced. She was lucky to even be allowed in a spaceship, let alone to continue to be a part of Starfleet. Most of the crew would remain under a new captaincy, but a few were assigned someplace else as well. Amelia knew of at least a dozen on the Enterprise, mostly ensigns.

The ship's first mission would be to search and destroy the terrorist menace, and she had been let known, through no uncertain terms, that her performance ought to be flawless. Less than that and she would be suspended, pending investigation. That angered her too. Her behavior had always been exemplary and she was being punished for something out of her control.

Amelia hated John Harrison for that. She had trusted him, believed in him, and he had betrayed them all. She didn't need to be compelled to do a good job. The opportunity to hunt him, to bring him down, was more than enough motivation, especially if she could avenge the deaths of the Starfleet officials he killed.

Jim was just as angry as she was, perhaps even more so. Admiral Pike was a close friend of his, while Amelia only had a few interactions with the man. He didn't deserve to die that way, though. None of them did. He was a fighter, and he deserved a warrior's death. A chance to fight and come out victorious. Of course, he would have lost if he had come head to head with her former captain, of that she was sure, but at least he would have died with honor.

The others didn't know Harrison, but they were starting to see what he was capable of. Turned out she didn't know him as well as she thought she had, but she certainly knew that by launching torpedoes from the atmosphere they were guaranteed a chance to kill him. He wouldn't go down without a fight, and if they opted to engage in close physical combat with the man, they'd lose. He was an amazing tactician, a brilliant fighter. There was no match in all of Starfleet.

Amelia had thought of him as a wonderful teacher too, but now only the thought of his treason populated her thoughts. The positive was slowly, but surely, being erased by all the horrifying things he had done. It was all she could think of, and guilt at her inability to sense his ill intentions drove her to wanting to catch him with everything she had.

Captain Harrison had received orders to come to London, alone, so he left the ship anchored at HQ. Of course, now she knew he had been lying. His plans were in motion, had been for some time, and the next step would soon begin. He needed to be in London at that time, and he did so under no one's orders. The crew found out about the attack on the Kelvin Memorial Archive when they were hailed by none other than Fleet Admiral Marcus, requesting their presence back on Earth.

First officer Amelia Rathbone was debriefed quickly, and her presence requested at the meeting of Starfleet high ranking officers, in order to discuss the next course of action in the manhunt for John Harrison. She was walking from the shuttle base, the sky a dusky color offset by the setting sun, when she was pulled into an alleyway and led deeper into its darkness.

When Amelia saw who was holding her against the hard and cold surface of a wall she froze, incredulous. He was being hunted, chased, and here he was, hiding in plain sight. It was almost as if he was taunting Starfleet officers, telling them that no matter what they did, their ineptitude would never allow them to catch him. That lack of fear was unnerving to Amelia.

She struggled with every ounce of determination in her, tried to reach him to fight, despite the fact that he was practically holding her arms hostage, pinned against the wall. So she aimed a kick at his shins, which he dodged easily.

That's when he hit her.

She went still, dazed and afraid. Of him, her captain, a man she had once trusted and adored. And the worst part was that she knew he was controlling himself, he could do so much worse. He wasn't aiming for broken bones. If he had been, she'd be dead now. Maybe he had wanted to torture, perhaps, or to simply unleash his rage and frustration. She stared into the frozen pits of his eyes, trying not to shake. Her muscles felt tight, painfully so, as her body steadied itself for the next attack.

And she knew there was going to be a next one. It was in his hard face, in the way his always carefully blank features twisted in some dark emotion she couldn't read. _Why?_ She wanted to speak but her voice seemed to have disappeared. Her eyes prickled with tears, but she fought them. She was already prey, no need to incite him further with her weakness.

His arms kept her from falling to the ground when he hit her stomach, bruising her ribs and making her double over. He straightened her, handling her as easily as if she was a doll, and then his hands were on her throat, before she could think of what was happening. The best she could do was struggle as he drained the life from her body, and that had no effect on him whatsoever. His grip never lessened, not even when she pleaded with her eyes, horrified at his actions. _I'm going to die at the hands of the man I love_. Black spots danced in her vision as the oxygen faltered, and she grabbed at his hands with the little strength she had left. Still the pressure continued, until her eyes closed. The last thing she felt was being lifted in his arms, but she didn't know for sure if it had really happened or if her dying brain had conjured a pleasant image for her to dwell on her last moments.

But then the nurses said she had been brought in unconscious to the hospital, though by whom they didn't know. He was tall and scary, was all they told her, and it was enough. Amelia didn't understand how he could have unleashed on her such a brutal and unprovoked attack in one moment, and then taking care of her in the next. He always did love mental challenges, so the probability that he was playing a game was high. She had no intentions of playing it with him, though.

She chased those thoughts away, shivering, and got up from the bed. Putting civilian clothes on, she decided to visit her family. Amelia would be gone for a while again, and this time she didn't know if she was coming back. She'd like to say her goodbyes, properly this time. It seemed like she never had time to spare before embarking on a new mission, but this time she was to departure the next day, at dawn.

Without any attempts to try and cover the bruises on her face and neck, she left her small apartment on the waterfront, pausing only to pick up a small bag, one that held her uniform and comms device. She loved to watch the Bay, the boats carrying either commodities or passengers at every moment. And at night the sight was lovely, all the ships would be illuminated like fireflies over the water. Countless times had she simply stood by her opened window and admired the view.

Her family lived in San Francisco as well, away from the Starfleet Academy, so she had to take the tram up and down the busy streets for an hour to reach them. The residence she grew up on looked no different than the others flanking it, the neat row of houses facing a well-maintained garden, complete with a copse of trees and a large fountain. She had played in the children's park right in the middle of the garden, and when she would tire she'd stretch out on the grass, looking at the clear sky and dreaming of a bright future.

The same future that threatened to elude her now, if she wasn't careful.


	2. Chapter 2

She knocked on the door of the only house with window boxes, the antiquated picture a hobby of her mother. She had kept white gardenias and purple petunias in those boxes for as long as Amelia could remember. The door unlocked and there stood her brother Andy, a little smile disappearing from his face as he saw her.

"Oh, it's you." He stepped back and Amelia hesitated for a second before entering, feeling less than welcome. "I thought you'd be fired, or something."

She let out an exaggerated sigh. News traveled fast. "I wasn't. Were you expecting someone else?"

"No."

Amelia's rigid posture didn't relax. "I know I didn't call or anything but−"

Her brother shrugged and shook a lock of brown hair from his face. "It's fine."

"Are mom and dad home? Jessica?"

"Yeah, in the yard."

Amelia took a deep breath before crossing the threshold, preparing herself for the task ahead. The yard was just as clean and well-maintained as the neighborhood garden, with a porch chair swinging in the gentle breeze and yellow and pink rosebushes cut in precise patterns. Her parents and sister were sitting at a table, under a parasol, glasses of iced tea and playing cards on its surface.

They looked at her when she approached, though none got up from the cushioned red chairs. "I wasn't expecting you." Her mother was all white pressed linens, the very image of cleanliness her house and backyard transmitted. Her father was more relaxed, though his clothes just as neat.

Her sister was practically sprawled on her chair, looking bored. Her brown hair was the same color as Andy's and Amelia's, though hers was the longest. She seemed to have a permanent scowl on her face, an unpleasant sight that became more pronounced for people who she deemed as not worthy of her attentions.

"You're gonna get bad posture." Amelia's attempt at drawing more than a grunt from her younger sister failed. She sighed again, already regretting her decision to come.

"So, did they fire you?" The mirror of her brother's question didn't sit well with Amelia, especially when her mother's tone was derisive.

"Of course not, I had no part in−"

"But you were his second-in-command, weren't you?" Her father sat up straighter in his chair, and placed a card on the table. "I thought they kept you informed of things."

Amelia let the cicadas play in silence for two seconds before replying, "They do, but not despotic plans consolidated by psychopaths, I'm afraid." She eyed the porch chair, but she'd have to drag it to the table if she wanted a seat, and that would certainly amuse them.

"And now what?" Her father took a swig from his glass and eyed her small bag. "Deciding to give up?"

She had expected this. "No, of course not. I'm still a member of Starfleet. I'm due on a mission tomorrow, I just came here to visit, that's all. I don't know when I'll be coming back."

"Hm. Maybe you should do something else, something more suited to you."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Amelia felt her grip on the conversation slipping. It was more of the same, every time she came here.

"Being in space, doing god knows what. You'd be happier here on Earth, maybe teaching at the primary school. You're good at math and kids need to learn. And just look at you, those things on your face... that's what you get from being involved in such nasty affairs. It's unpleasant to look at, if I'm being honest."

_God forgive you never being honest._ And, of course, the 'good at math' bit, she had missed that one. Amelia was more than good, she was young and yet had managed to ascend in the Starfleet hierarchy at a very personal cost. Her nearly nonexistent social life was proof of that, but she had made friends at the Academy, and more on the ship she served. _Had_ served. She was more insulted by that jab than the one intended for her looks.

It didn't matter, though. Nothing ever seemed to. Not her academic accomplishments or her promotions, nor even the fact she was the first in the family to achieve such a high ranking position at Starfleet. Her uncle on her father's side was a member as well, though he worked in an auxiliary ship, a 3rd class crewman on the machine room.

Her sister's voice pierced her ears. Surprised that she decided to talk to her, Amelia looked over as Jessica placed all her cards on the table, her frown a little less pronounced now that she was winning. "You were there on that ship, up in space for months at a time, and you never suspected anything. What the hell was that? How thick can you be?"

Amelia suppressed her annoyance at the whiny tone. "Well, dear sis, if you were there you'd understand. Since you were not, trust me on this one."

"If I had been there I'd have been smarter. How can you not tell if your boss is a psycho?"

Could she ever have thought that? No. The last image she had of him showed his true colors, yes, but before that he had been perfect. Well, in her eyes, at least. Now, the mere thought of him made her blood boil with anger, at the same time it brought a painful tightness to her chest.

He hadn't listened to many people, but he had listened to her, had respected her opinions. Now she wasn't so sure so that, with everything that happened. She had given him everything, even her heart, something Amelia knew he could never find out. He was always in a class of his own, untouchable and distant, dismissive of personal feelings. Now she thought that he might have noticed her affection after all. He'd probably construed it as weakness, as proof of her inferiority.

He hated weakness. He thought he was better than anyone else, and Amelia knew that was true. Arrogance was only such if it was built on lies, and this was not the case. That worried her. They would have to be smarter than him to catch him, stronger to kill him.

In the end, she knew it didn't matter what she told her family, they'd never believe a word. Amelia hated the part of herself that longed for the accusations against him to be false, the hope that still lingered in her thoughts, and the words that attempted to justify his crimes. The sooner she fully accepted her former captain was a criminal the better. She had to put all childish dreams and hopes behind her and shed all the weakness from her bones. She had to be strong. She had to be like him, uncaring, had to focus on the mission. On the kill.

A little more than exasperated, Amelia bid her family farewell and made her way back, heading straight for the shuttle station. Alongside others headed for HQ or other ships anchored in the space station, she boarded a shuttle and soon found herself in space, looking through a window to the command center of Starfleet.

The small ship docked by the Enterprise, so as soon as the doors opened she was immediately immersed in animation and noise. People came and went, red, blue and gold everywhere, a flurry of movement on the lower deck. Amelia had changed on her way there, on a little compartment on the shuttle, her blue uniform and badge indicative of her expertise and position. Not that that would matter in this mission. No, it was her experience with tactical combat that would help her against him, and one of the reasons she was reassigned to the Enterprise. Of course, that wasn't very useful before, when she had simply let him hurt her, unable to defend herself against his onslaught. But she had been taken by surprise, hence the helplessness she had felt and acted upon. Amelia was fully aware that was the excuse with which she lied to herself.

Choosing a turbolift, she pressed the button to the bridge, and after a few quick seconds that seemed like eternity, she arrived at her destination. After the door opened she took a moment to herself before stepping into the white room, gathering her thoughts and emotions, though still worried at her new duties or the reaction of a crew she had never worked with. She knew Jim and Uhura from the Academy, as well as the medical chief officer, though for obvious reasons he wasn't on the bridge. She could have used the familiarity. _Right, enough stalling_.

"Captain." Her voice was steady and clear, which she was thankful for, and she felt more like herself. Confidence was key, something that had begun to vanish with the uncertainty and questions she had about herself and the ability to see what was right in front of her eyes. She walked over to the only gold uniform on the bridge. "Ready for duty, sir."

"Amelia, sit right there. Sorry, we're a bit frazzled." His distracted voice and pointing finger led her to a chair to the left of the captain's, next to Uhura. First officer Spock looked at her, his gaze perusing the bruises on her face, though he said nothing as she sat down. He reminded her of Harrison, the features devoid of expression, the calculating eyes, the standoffish manner. The panel with its blinking buttons was familiar, though she had grown more used to the second-in-command position, to the right of the captain's chair.

The nervous energy in the command room revolved around Jim. He seemed to be bracing himself for a decision. Finally, he turned his speaker on and addressed the entire ship. The idea that they would try to capture John Harrison to bring him to justice was ridiculous. What was Jim playing at?

"Captain, if I may?" Amelia stood up from her chair, worried. "The man we're chasing is dangerous. If given a chance he will turn against us, and he will kill us."

"I can't condemn a man to die without trial, Amelia. I understand you're upset, but I can't, in good conscience, kill him without giving him the chance to defend himself. Even if he wouldn't extend us the same courtesy." He seemed to think of his answer, then added, "And even if I want to kill him myself."

"He will retaliate, Jim. You think you know how he is but you don't. I served under him for years, and never, not even once, did he slip. He's cold and manipulative, and completely without remorse. Believe me when I say this, it's better for all of us if he dies."

Spock intervened. "I understand your reasoning, commander, but it is highly immoral to sentence a man to die without trial. In this, I believe the captain made the right choice."

"I hope he did, for our sake." Amelia returned to her seat. They didn't understand, none of them did. But how could they, when she barely understood it herself? She could still see him in her mind, the way he used to be, how he walked with confidence, straight and tall, how he expected obedience from everyone around him, and how voices could be silenced by his mere presence. He hid the savage he truly was behind a facade of civility, and he managed to fool everyone.

It pained her to wish the man she loved dead, but what else could she do? Allow him to kill everyone she held dear? No. It had to be done. No matter what Jim said, what his plans were, Amelia intended to set her phaser to kill, not stun. It would be self-defense. He would not give her another choice, and she wouldn't let herself be caught in his deadly hands again.

Amelia had planned to convince Jim to let her come to Qo'noS, but in the end she didn't have to. "You're coming with us too." He said, looking at her from his seated place in the captain's chair. "I need you. You can fight and, like you said, you know this guy better than we do."

Amelia faced her friend. "Of course, sir."

Jim's knowing look pierced her. "I don't want him dead. I know you want revenge, I do to. I want nothing more than see him die, but I can't. And you can't either."

She nodded, though her mind was already set.

"Oh," He continued, frowning, when he suddenly remembered something. "Are you in any condition to fight? Sorry to ask but you still look a bit... messed up. If you're in pain Bones can give you something−"

"I can fight, don't worry." She reassured him. She wouldn't miss this for the world, and the last thing she wanted or needed was a sedative to dull her senses. She had to be at her best when she faced him.

Jim nodded. "All right, let's go."


	3. Chapter 3

I know his explanation is different from the one in the movie, but I had to change a few teeny tiny details to fit my story.

* * *

With the ship at warp it was a matter of waiting until they could act. When that moment finally came, Jim left Sulu in charge and both Spock and Uhura joined in on the small crew headed for the planet's surface. Harrison was hiding in an inhabited part of the planet, but they still had to be careful. Nothing would incite the animosity between the Federation and the Klingons more than an international incident right on the surface of their home.

They were prepared for trouble, but it still came as a surprise when the Klingons turned so quickly on Uhura. A blast that came from nowhere saved her life, and Amelia watched as the lieutenant scurried away from the enemy. The source of the shooting became clear as a tall figure in an overcoat jumped down from his previously higher position. _Harrison_.

She had to ignore him for now. She jumped in on the action, phaser in hand, shooting and dodging her way to Uhura. Amelia dropped to the ground when a rather big Klingon appeared in front of her, and kicked his knees with all her strength. He shouted in pain and fell down, one leg broken. Standing up quickly, she stunned him and he stopped writhing on the ground.

The sky was dark, the atmosphere heavy, and Amelia had a little trouble breathing the dusty air, especially when she had to fight at the same time. It was harder and more exhausting than the exercises she had to perform back at the Academy. She reached Uhura and both ducked behind a broken piece of metal, hiding from the blast shots of Klingon weaponry.

Harrison was closer now and he hogged all the Klingons. He fought them alone, and she could only watch as he disposed of the enemy, no hesitation in his actions, no pauses in his perfect technique. Amelia didn't see another severely wrinkled face until it was right on top of her. The Klingon crushed her already hurting ribs with the pressure of his armored body, punched her stomach and back when she lifted both hands to protect her face and head, the most vulnerable spots, and curled into a more defensive position. Uhura was without a weapon, and couldn't do much more than throw barehanded blows. Just when the pain was starting to become overwhelming, the Klingon was lifted from her.

Harrison stood behind him and Amelia watched, panting and arching her back from the pain as he twisted the Klingon's neck, killing him instantly. Then he turned to her, reached for the undersides of her arms and pulled her to her feet in a quick movement. It didn't escape her the careful way he did it, knowing his strength was so much bigger that hers. She let go but immediately held on to his coat to steady herself, head spinning with vertigo. He let her clutch the fabric, his own hands travelling from her arms to her waist, fingers lightly touching her ribs as they went down, settling just above her hips.

In the midst of the barbaric and messy battle, Amelia felt safe, albeit confused at the much gentler way he was behaving. She couldn't deny it made her feel good.

His eyes searched every bruise and wound on her skin, the ones he put there himself, and the ones from the fight. Those strong hands tightened for a moment, just an inch away from turning painful, and then let her go. He turned, his overcoat catching the wind as he fought another Klingon. It was over just as quickly, his graceful movements and hard-hitting punches sending the enemy down. She previously thought he must have controlled his strength when he attacked her, and here was proof. She would be dead if that strength had been turned on her. Rising above the sounds of battle was the crack of bone as Harrison exerted pressure on the enemy's neck until it snapped, breaking his spine in the process. The Klingon went still.

She saw Uhura standing up beside her, a silent question in her eyes. Amelia didn't know what to tell her. They had come here to capture John Harrison and instead he was saving her life? It didn't make much sense to Amelia, and she guessed her friend was just as perplexed. However, no matter how she thought about it, she couldn't deny her feelings at seeing him again.

Not even the stare he pierced her with could send her running away now, the savage look threatening to melt her from the inside out. He seemed to stare right through her, with dark promises in his eyes, and the fear she felt was thrilling, the knowledge of his superior strength a sudden pleasure. Mainly because she had a feeling he wouldn't use it on her this time. He protected her, and on an instinctual level she would have scorned any other moment, it made her feel cared for, cherished.

He was breathing more heavily, but not from the exertion, from excitement. He enjoyed the brutality of the fight, that moment when he took a life. She shivered, but he made no move in her direction. The others came running by, voices raised with threats of violence. Amelia shook her head and closed her eyes, willing those feelings to go away, and when they opened again, she felt more like herself, a woman who couldn't lose sight of the mission at hand.

Harrison took the gun from the felled Klingon and pointed it at Jim. "How many torpedoes?"

There was urgency in his voice and Jim decided not to answer the question, though Spock couldn't seem to resist the intimidation, the warning that there was nowhere Harrison could run. "Seventy two."

However, he didn't even hesitate and lowered his weapon. "I surrender."

Amelia's incredulity was mirrored in the other's expressions. Why was he giving up so easily? Another question plagued her as she returned to the ship with the others, watching as Harrison was taken away. Why had he bothered to save her?

* * *

On one hand, Amelia felt like staying away from the brig, where Harrison had been taken to. On the other, she couldn't wait to get in there and demand an explanation for his actions. He wouldn't answer but she needed to ask, needed the closure, if only to start mending the wounds she carried inside.

Still, she was upset when she saw him. She wanted to look as dignified as he did in the clinical white cell, but couldn't do it. Not when his eyes followed her every move, every little tic and gesture, every expression that crossed her face. Wishing to be able to clear her face of any revealing emotions didn't make it so, but there was nothing Amelia wanted more at this moment than to hide from him, to let him look but see nothing. Harrison got up when she approached the glass, his methodical prowling unnerving, his eyes on her the whole time. She stopped a foot away, unsure. As usual, his features were unchanged by emotion and his back was straight, though his posture was relaxed. Despite the fact that he was imprisoned on the brig, captive in a transparent cage impossible to escape from, he showed no fear.

She didn't want to be the first to break the silence, but couldn't resist asking, "Why did you turn on Starfleet?"

Harrison's expression remained the same, though a slight line appeared between his eyebrows. He chose to remain silent, to give nothing away.

Amelia nodded, resigned, her eyes drifting away. What did she expect to accomplish here? "We were nothing to you, huh?" This was a door she hadn't wanted to open, but she was so angry. Her fists clenched, nails digging into palms, even if her voice came out firm, steady, as she turned her face in his direction again. "A distraction, a way to pass the time, perhaps. God knows how bored you must have been, a superior mind like yours." He took a step forward and Amelia was unsettled. He was so tall and imposing, her medium height and slight build no match for his power. Strangely, she felt cornered by him, even though he was the one caged and she was out of his reach. "You cared nothing for−" She hesitated, uncertain if she should reveal her greatest weakness, the hurt he had caused her. "−me." She finished, feeling all kinds of pathetic.

He stood there, the very image of patience and attention, arms at his sides, eyes still staring intently. She found that gaze overwhelming and disturbing, just as his lack of reaction. Turning around, she made to leave, but his deep voice stopped her.

"You're wrong."

She closed her eyes briefly. Words so simple, yet ones she had yearned to hear all along. _Don't be fooled._ "Then why did you hurt me that day when I had done nothing to you?"

His next words were surprising. "Because you would have been on that meeting, and you would have died."

Amelia turned around to look at him. There was a chink in his composure, showing her the man beneath. His fists were clenched too, though she had a feeling it was not in anger. She returned to her spot by the glass, slowly, his eerie calmness slipping away as she watched.

The previously icy stare was no longer the same, now twin stormy pools of conflicting emotions. _He doesn't want this_. Somehow she knew he had been fighting something inside him all this time, and she foolishly hoped she was the cause of the struggle. Amelia wanted him to feel as she did, to look at her and _see _her, as she now looked at him and saw someone entirely different.

Jim and Spock came into the room, their voices breaking the spell. Harrison's features slid back into blankness, and suddenly she wanted to run away from him, to return to safety, where the broken pieces of her heart weren't trying to jab their way in again. She turned around and this time didn't stop, ignoring the questioning glances of her crewmates.

She stopped only in the corridor, not knowing what to think of the encounter. Disbelief was the strongest feeling wrestling inside, though sadness was a close second. Did he mean what she thought he did? That he hit her to send her to the hospital, to prevent her from attending the meeting he attacked? That sounded terrible, but to a man like him it was logical. What better way to ensure she would be out of harm's way? But why, why would he want her in safety? Well, relative safety, since he had indeed sent her to the hospital after beating her up.

Still, a large part of her couldn't help but wonder if he indeed cared. Determined to get more answers she reentered the brig, remaining silent while the men spoke to one another. She was taken aback at what she heard.

"My name if Khan. I was asleep for nearly three hundred years when I awoke in the darkness of space, on a drifting ship. My crew still slept but I knew not all were safe. Some never made it out of Earth all those years ago and were kept in the hands of humans. I returned to Earth immediately, of course, but the world had changed." His tone was grievous, his features hard. "The _Botany Bay_ was no more advanced than the humans' first attempts at space exploration. The ship was captured by superior technology and I alone escaped. Unable to revive my crew, afraid of destroying them without the proper equipment, I had to leave them behind. They fell into the hands of the Admiral, who, correctly, understood who we were. Remnants of a time long past, engineered to be superior in every way, to aid humans in their wars. As a result, I infiltrated Starfleet, created an irrefutable alias and searched for my men. I was discovered a year ago, and forced to work for Marcus, who wanted nothing more than explore me and mine, to start a war. And I did it to save my crew."

"No. I watched you open fire in a room full of unarmed Starfleet officers. You killed them in cold blood. You are a murderer." Jim's passionate voice rose, his pain and heartache clear.

"I believed my friends to be dead, so I retaliated in kind. My crew is my family, Kirk. Is there anything you would not do for your family?" Harrison... Khan's voice was raw, honest and pained, and it threatened to break her even more. She knew he wasn't referring to her or any of the others under his command, but it still warmed her to see such a display of emotion from him, even if it was sorrow. It meant he was human at his core, even if he denied it, and had the ability to feel something more than anger and hatred for humanity. Though Amelia didn't want to feel sorry for him, she couldn't help the compassion, or the way her heart tugged at his loss.

_Get your priorities straight_. He had killed Starfleet officers, and no matter how he put it, there was no justifying that.

"You're still a criminal, _Khan_." The name was harsh on her tongue, a reminder of his lies.

He turned to stare at her once more, and she fought the urge to turn her own head away, in an attempt to regain control over her features. Amelia knew what he saw as he looked. The conflict was apparent on her face, as she could very well see from her reflection in the glass wall. There was still dust and blood on her skin and clothes, she was tired, exhausted even, and the dark circles under her heavy eyes completed a dishevelled appearance.

Khan didn't reply to her outburst, but simply said, "You should rest." His voice was low, almost intimate in its softness, and she didn't like the way it made her feel. Frowning, Amelia opted to remain silent, shifting her gaze away.

She felt his eyes on her, though, as she left the brig with Jim and Spock.

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I hope you enjoyed their reunion. Next chapter Khan shows Amelia just how much he cares...

Review, if you please!


	4. Chapter 4

She was still feeling like hell. Bones had insisted she be kept in the infirmary for a couple of days, just to be sure she'd heal well. She had been there for a full day, itching to leave, when Jim came strolling in, glanced at her and opened his mouth to say something, then opting to talk to Bones instead. They were muttering, heads almost touching, pretending she wasn't there when it was obvious they were talking about her. The way they kept looking over their shoulders was pissing her off.

"I'm right here. What's the matter now?"

Jim hesitated for a moment. "He says he can heal you with his blood."

"Who?" She furrowed her eyebrows while Bones rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Oh, you mean Khan? Why would he say that?"

Jim shrugged and the doctor looked contemplative. "I'll take a sample, analyze it, see where it leads us." Then they both left.

Amelia passed the time by staring at the white ceiling, not sure of what game Khan was playing at. His speech had been enough, there was no need to keep up the pretense. They were all sympathizing with him now.

The men returned with a small vial full with a red fluid. Bones run it through his machines, almost drooling at the properties of Khan's blood cells. She didn't know what propelled her to accept the vaccine. Maybe she wanted a small part of Khan inside her, since she couldn't have the man himself. _Now, that isn't sad at all._

She lay back down on the pillows, feeling instantly better, the blood kick starting the healing process. When the pain was gone, exhaustion took its place and she fell asleep.

The next time she woke, however, Amelia immediately sat up on the hospital bed, but she couldn't get comfortable, like she's been lying down for ages. Her neck felt tired, and her body numb, but laying down felt even worse. She was restless. That was her problem. Her body was healed but she wanted to move. And just as she was thinking she needed to do something, Khan was brought in, flanked by guards. There were a lot of them, too much for a normal man, but not enough for him.

She sat up straighter, adrenaline start jumping her heart into a frenzy.

"I am glad you are feeling well." He looked so pale in the darkened room, so focused, sitting with that perfect posture of his, hands resting on knees.

Amelia cleared her throat before speaking, looking around. "Yes, much better." _Coward, look at him. _She lifted her eyes to his, uncertainty over his actions plaguing her mind. "Thank you for the blood."

"Anytime."

"I have no intentions of nearly dying again." She watched as a corner of his mouth subtly lifted.

"Good, I might not be there to save you next time."

"I don't need saving, Khan." She had never dared to call him by what she thought of his name before, and it was still strange to skip the 'captain' title.

_Stupid, you are lying in a hospital bed after nearly croaking. Obviously you need some saving._ Bones kept Khan busy, taking samples of his blood, fussing over the perfection of his cells. Amelia was wide awake, but she still lay down, listening to the background noise of Bones's voice and closing her eyes. She pretended she could hear Khan's breathing lulling her to sleep. Eventually, Amelia slipped into a dreamless state, only to be awakened by an uncanny feeling after what felt like mere minutes.

Khan was at her bedside, a sinister dark presence that startled her. Amelia sat up slowly, dread consuming her, and took a quick look around, wondering if she had time to shout for help. The guards were sprawled on the ground, unconscious or worse. Khan answered her unspoken question.

"They are not dead."

"What are you doing?" _There goes my statement of not needing saving._ She was afraid, heart beating in her mouth, but she refused to let him intimidate her into submission yet again. "What do you want?"

"To say goodbye, of course. What else?" He sat down by her side, the bed dipping from his weight. Could his superhuman senses see how erratic her breathing had become? How she shrank away from him?

"I won't let you kill me." She was determined to fight him, even knowing the obvious outcome.

"If I wanted, you would be dead in seconds. Do not fight me, Amelia, you will not win."

"Maybe, maybe not. But I won't let you hit me again." She slipped from under the sheets and stood up without unlocking their gazes, mindful of his next move. With the bed between them she had a false sense of security and dared to feel around for anything that might serve as a weapon.

Khan got up too. "Don't."

"What?"

He was on her in two of his giant steps and she gasped as he grabbed her by the arms. _This is it. _How much more heartache could she bear? She was afraid, but also sad that he felt the need to hurt her. That he had so little regard for her feelings and well-being.

But the pain never came.

Instead, his hands softened their grip, his touch gentle. She couldn't deal with this change. What did he want now?

"Don't fight me." His words could be interpreted as a threat, but the tender streak in his voice told her otherwise.

She stared up at him, neck almost craning. She wanted to see if his eyes looked like ice now, or if warmth graced them. "What do you mean, goodbye? Planning on going somewhere? You can't escape from the Enterprise, not even you're that good."

He smiled and she wasn't comforted by the sight. "We will see about that." He touched her neck, closed his hand around it and she couldn't help but remember the time he had dragged her into unconsciousness just a few days ago. She swallowed, his hand feeling the movement, his little smile slipping, as if he too was remembering the same. Only now he didn't exert any pressure, his fingers caressing the vulnerable pale skin instead of gripping hard. She felt completely exposed, helpless, weak, and yet the fear drifted away.

Oh, Amelia knew this was far from over. He was planning on leaving and would not stand for any obstacle in his way. Something she clearly was, no doubt about it. He would deal with her in a way Amelia was sure to find unpleasant, but she was somewhat reassured by the idea that he wouldn't kill her.

She had to stop him from leaving though, he was a terrorist and had to be brought to justice, no matter how her heart bled at that, how she longed to stay in his arms forever, and damn the consequences. But he had a choice and he chose to destroy, kill. Now she had the responsibility to see that he paid for his actions. There was only one thing she could do, and that was to sound an alarm. An impossibility in her current position, so she'd have to do something she really didn't want to. Fight him. As long as he was occupied with her, he'd be distracted enough for someone to enter the infirmary. There were always people coming and going, though now they were more than terrified of Khan, so the room was empty of anyone but the knocked out guards. Perhaps she could even reach the alarm button on the wall, if she was quick enough.

She could scream, but he'd put an end to that pretty quickly. As if he had heard her thoughts, he gave her a warning look, and at the same time tightened the hold on her throat. Not enough to hurt, but just enough to show her who was in control. He expected others to be submissive to him, their superior, but he had another thing coming if he thought she'd stay meek and compliant. Besides, he valued strength, and she knew he actually liked it when she stood up to him. It had happened quite a few times. He disliked having his commands questioned, especially in front of the crew, and she knew better than do something like that. But Amelia had always spoken her mind when they were in private, even argued against his stubbornness when she thought he was wrong. She suspected he enjoyed sparring with words as much as he did with his hands.

So Amelia did the first thing that came to mind and jabbed an elbow in his stomach. Of course he didn't even budge. She had seen Jim hit him over and over again, to no avail, and here she was on a fool's quest. Still, she kicked him for good measure.

He didn't retaliate, just as he hadn't with Jim. She wondered why he'd simply accept her aggression and do nothing in return. _Possibly because my hits cause him no pain or damage._

"Do be still. As much as I enjoy these games, I truly do not want to hurt you."

"Oh, that's new." Amelia pulled on his forearm, trying to make him lower the grip on her neck, but he ignored that feeble attempt, choosing to grab her wrist with his other hand instead. "How do you intend to escape the ship?"

"Not telling." Khan leaned towards her, their noses nearly touching and his eyes almost warm. "Do not worry, you will live another day."

_High-handed arrogant bastard._ Amelia was starting to get angry. "You're so full of yourself, you know, always thinking I'm beneath you, that you're better than me. You're not. I'm not scared of you, and I'm not going down without a fight." She stuck out her chin, her defiance somewhat shattered by the sudden broken note in her voice. "Even if you end me, I'll still figure out a way to come back, haunt you 'til the day you die. And even then I'm not letting go, oh no, I'll be a pain in your dead ass forever."

"Are you quite done?"

"No." Her tone was unyielding, even as tears flooded her eyes. She blinked them away angrily. "And after I do that, I'll follow you to the next life, where I'll make you miserable and wretched, where you'll pray for the mercy of death soon enough." She let out a trembling breath. "Now I'm done."

"You are wrong again." His mutter was low, his breath sliding over her face as he bent his head a little lower, fingers wiping the moisture away from her skin, gently.

She gulped. "What about? I could totally pull off a haunting."

He laughed quietly, and her heart skipped a beat. "I have no doubt." Then he was serious. "I meant your claim that I think you are beneath me. That is not true."

"Am I to believe you, Captain Harrison? Sorry, I meant Khan. It's difficult to keep up with the dishonesty. It's a wonder how I can doubt you, really."

"Well, then, consider something. Would I have let anyone speak to me the way you do? The way you always did?"

"I never disrespected you."

"No. But anyone else would have lost their head by now."

"That's mighty of you, Khan, thank you for sparing my life." The sarcasm didn't go unnoticed, by the way he narrowed his eyes. Not in anger, but he was getting worked up, excited at having her talk back to him, and the silent warning was loud and clear in the air between them. But Amelia still felt like poking the bear. "Let me add something to our previous conversation. Because of all your talk of superiority, of the way you like to put people down, I wish you reincarnate in the body of a−"

He silenced her with a kiss. Amelia was so stunned she went still for a second, unsure of how to proceed, uncertain of his intentions. Was he distracting her? Using her? All those unpleasant thoughts fled her mind as she decided to enjoy the moment. A kiss from _him_,all she ever wanted, and something that might not come again. For all his strength and domineering personality, he was being gentle, giving her more than enough time and opportunity to refuse what he was offering. She didn't.

She grabbed his shirt with one hand and embraced his neck with the other, running her nails in the soft skin of the nape, feeling the little hairs between her fingers as she kneaded the spot. The sound he made was almost like a growl, low and full of promises, and Amelia was warmed by the thought that she could make him feel this way, could give him what he wanted and needed, and in return, he was more than capable of satisfying her as well.

She stood on her tiptoes to reach him better, as his arms surrounded her waist, pulling her soft body against his. She forgot everything else, that they were in the medical bay, that he was a wanted terrorist, that he might be playing her affections. It ceased to matter.

His hand slid to her hair, tugged a fistful of her strands, hard, so that her head dropped back and allowed him a deeper access to her mouth. She opened for him, little strangled noises leaving her throat, inciting a more brutal response from Khan. He was not as gentle now, but just as powerful, more capable of weakening her knees as he grew more in touch with the side of him she loved and feared at the same time. And yet he still cared enough for her to keep a tender touch beneath all his aggression.

Amelia pulled away with the uncontrollable urge to see his face, to see if he was feeling this as she was. His eyes told her everything, dark and piercing, swimming with need for her. And something else she didn't dare to dwell on. She was relieved, content. She wasn't a fool, this thing between them would never go anywhere, but she was glad to have had this.

As she stared up at him, one of his hands touched the bare skin of her back, slipped under her shirt to trace her spine, a sensual touch that left her craving more. She felt naked under his gaze and shivered. He forced her to step back, walking close to her, their legs almost tangling. Her back was against the wall in the next moment, his hand slipping from her bare skin to her wrist, which he circled, caressing her quickened pulse. He grabbed the other wrist with his other hand, and held both at her sides. Amelia tried to free herself, but he didn't let her, forcing her to be still and helpless. He took yet another step forward, effectively trapping her between him and the wall, their bodies touching.

Khan bent his head to her neck, inhaled her scent, touched his lips to the vulnerable skin there. He bit her. Amelia gasped, pleasure racing through her, even if her control threatened to slip away. Not that she had many to begin with, not with him. He didn't treat her as his inferior, but he was overwhelming.

He kissed her neck and her hands itched to touch him. She pleaded, whimpering, so low she wasn't sure he could hear it. But he did, and he answered by tightening his grip on her wrists, preventing any movement on her part. His mouth continued to slide higher, biting down softly on her jaw, as her heart raced. He was so much more than she ever imagined. Khan made her feel powerless and strong at the same time, like she could do anything, could be anything. His tongue touched her slightly opened mouth before he bit her there too, gently, and she was lost, so lost. Amelia didn't know what this meant to him, what _she _meant, but he cared. At least that was obvious. He was obeying his dominant nature, giving her pleasure and taking everything from her in return, but he respected her. She knew if she told him to stop he would, immediately. That made her never want to stop.

He kissed her fully again, his tongue touching hers. He deepened the kiss, turned his head to the side to open her mouth even more, to add to her vulnerability, and she let him do it, yearned for it. She realized Khan didn't see her as weak, not like he saw the others. Maybe at first it began like that but it evolved. Had she let him push his will whenever he wanted, Khan would never have felt this way.

Amelia wanted more with him, a lifetime if she dared to hope as much, but not now, not when things were the way they were. She pulled back, breathless, and in a tender move that brought fresh tears to her eyes, he rested his forehead against hers.

"Don't kill anyone else, please." Her voice was low, quiet in the silent infirmary, and still winded from kissing him.

His eyes were closed. "I won't."

"Jim will give you your crew back. I'll make sure of it. Agree to a peace."

"I will."

Khan never ceased to surprise her. She truly hoped he would put his pride on hold, trust her to help him. Amelia felt like she had a balloon inside her, filling her with a giddy happiness that manifested itself in a smile, the first since she learnt of his betrayal."Promise?"

His eyes flew open, pierced hers with an intensity that vanished any attempt to bring back the sanity she possessed before the kiss. He leaned in, pressed his lips to hers, slowly, sweetly. "Yes."

* * *

I hope you enjoy. R&R


	5. Chapter 5

Hope you enjoy. R&R

* * *

Amelia had watched the argument between Spock, Jim and Khan, though the last seemed unimpressed by the men's heated statements. Well, at least Jim was raising his voice. Spock was the same as usual, reciting rules and regulations about the treatment of prisoners. The fact that Khan knocked out the guards in the medical bay wasn't playing in his favor, but Amelia knew he couldn't care less if they dropped him back in the brig. In the end, he was allowed to roam the ship under the condition that he would help them with Marcus and would not attack anyone else. Khan insisted his crew was to be released from human custody, and Jim had to agree. His honor could not allow the injustice to continue, even after what Khan did, and though they parted on less than friendly terms, an uneasy peace was formed between them. Khan was sent back to the infirmary for Bones's continued tests, and Amelia went to her room.

What had changed Khan's mind she did not know, but she was glad. The more cynical part of her doubted the authenticity of his statement, but she wanted so much to believe Khan would indeed stay on the ship and cease his path of revenge, that she was willing to take it on faith. She hoped she was beginning to truly know the man underneath all the masks and pretenses, but it was a hard task. Amelia used to know him as captain John Harrison, and it was still the first image that came to mind when she thought of him. His tall and straight posture, his silent demands for loyalty and obedience without question, his savagery. Everything was still the same. But one thing has changed. He had found his crew, his family. His true family. And now either he could finally act on urges he had felt all along, or she was simply someone to pass the time.

He had assured her that was not the case, that he liked her, and her instinct also told her the same. Now it was only a matter of believing in it with every single fiber in her being. Maybe it would be better if he tired of her, rejected her. They didn't have a future. For them to be together Starfleet would have to do the improbable, if not impossible, and that was to forgive him, something Amelia couldn't quite imagine happening.

And this only if he wanted forgiveness. He had committed treason and murder, and she was sure that Admiral Marcus was still in danger of losing his life. Khan was irate, his rage-fueled thoughts of the man directed towards nothing but revenge, and if he tried to kill him, Amelia would not be able to stop him. Khan was like a hungry caged tiger and if let out, nothing would stand in his way.

Away from him and his commanding presence, in her quiet room, Amelia could think better, could weigh every variable and choose the most desirable outcome. She couldn't let him go, of that she was sure, but right now she also didn't see another option. In the end, she couldn't reach a decision or a solution.

Amelia looked out the large window and watched the darkness for a little while. She missed her old ship, the crew, her friends, her companions of years. Longing for the past, a time that would never come back, would not do her any good, even if she couldn't help the thoughts. They would never be together again in a single ship, with or without Khan's command.

He had wanted to leave earlier but he'd stayed. Maybe this was the forging of a relationship between not only the both of them, but Khan and Kirk too. They would never be best friends, but she'd take mistrustful allies any day. Jim had expressed sympathy for Khan's situation and even though he didn't trust him, he needed him to solve the situation with Marcus. And that was definitely a start.

Amelia stood up and hadn't taken two steps before the Enterprise shook violently, sending her flying across the floor. She grunted when her arm bent beneath her, and thought she'd be lucky to only have a pulled muscle. Getting up, Amelia happened to look at the window and what she saw chilled her.

A massive ship appeared, its dark green colored wings occupying the whole view. It was a heavy battlecruiser, a class one Klingon warship that resembled a bird with a beak, the place where the command center was located.

What was going on?

Why were Klingons attacking a Federation ship? Was war starting at last? Cursing, Amelia run out the door, straight to the bridge, while Jim's voice filled the air with orders for everyone to return to their stations and prepare for battle. She entered the bridge still at a run, and stopped abruptly when a different vision stood in the screen ahead. There were dozens of Klingon ships, some as large as the one she saw, others smaller, though clearly equipped for battle.

Then they all started to disappear, warping away, until one remained. Confused, Amelia looked around at the equally baffled expressions of her crewmates. The turbolift opened behind her but she didn't look, so she was easily startled by Khan when he touched her arm slowly as he passed her, a touch so soft she could have imagined it. There was only silence on the bridge, even though Jim didn't look so pleased by Khan's presence. However, his stare only lasted a second, with Khan looking straight back at him, not intimidated, before he returned his attention to the window.

"Are we being contacted?" Jim's voice was weary but determined.

"No, captain, there's nothing." Uhura wasn't giving up, though. She exchanged a look with Amelia and shrugged, puzzled. Then she straightened in her chair. "Wait. We're being hailed."

"Put them through." Jim walked slowly to his chair and sat down, a display of power, setting the record right from the bat.

The screen shifted from darkness to the image of a Klingon, a scarred face with ridges framing a pair of frighteningly hostile eyes. He spoke, but his guttural voice was nothing but scratches and sharp edges. Uhura understood him, of course. Amelia watched as she stood up from her chair, ignoring the pointed look of her captain that demanded a translation in favor of a terrified expression, features frozen. Then she spoke. "He says... He says that in retaliation for coming to their planet without consent, and our consequent attack, we are to−"

She interrupted herself, still staring ahead in horror.

"What?" Amelia asked, a bad feeling in her gut.

"They're going to attack Earth in retribution. Starting by a Starfleet command center."

"They're going for HQ?" Jim didn't turn around as he asked her the question, aware that he must seem unafraid and unperturbed by the news, but there was a new tension in his body that wasn't there before.

"No, the Academy."

Amelia felt as if an ice cube was slowly sliding down her back. The Academy in San Francisco, where thousands of people lived. Including her family.

"Lieutenant, ask him to suspend the attack." Jim stood up, still looking at the Klingon." Inform him that we were there to apprehend a fugitive and have no desire to fight."

Uhura spoke, but the Klingon's features were still frozen in a harsh expression. His answer didn't seem satisfying when she sighed and looked at Spock before speaking again. "They refuse. They say we had no right to got here and that human problems don't concern them. They hold us responsible for the death of their comrades."

"Tell them that−" Jim stopped talking when the image dissipated from the screen. The large ship disappeared too. "Damn it." Then he turned to the crew, concerned. "We have to assume they're speaking the truth. Mr. Sulu, begin warp, we may be able to catch them before they reach their target. If not, we need to beat them there. Uhura, warn HQ and the Academy of the impending attack, and tell them I strongly suggest an evacuation of the city. Klingons are not known for their mercy." He sat back down on the captain's chair, resting his chin on his closed fist.

Troubled, Amelia couldn't stop thinking of her family. She was worried by the loss of life that would occur if the Klingons attacked the city, but those people were detached from her, mere thoughts and images in her head. Did that make her a bad person? Her parents, her brother, her sister, on the other hand, however pains in the neck they might be, she still loved them.

She felt a presence by her side and looked up. Khan's face was without expression, as usual when they were in public, but the concern was still in his eyes. Not for people he didn't know and would never care about, but for her, and it was that silent disquiet in him that made her feel better, strangely. However, what she needed was to work, to lose herself in the job at hand and push the worry to a corner of her mind, where the nagging thoughts would stop trying to drill a hole in her head. She smiled briefly at him, glad that he was on the Enterprise with her, and out of chains.

He understood her better than she thought. Khan gave her the privacy she wanted, and as she returned to work, he walked over to Jim and demanded to see his crew. Marcus had found the ones that stayed behind on Earth, reunited them with their other sleeping brothers and sisters, and Khan wanted proof that they were all alive and well. She couldn't blame him for that, and neither could Jim who, after a quick disagreement that ended up with him folding, Khan was indeed allowed to see the pods. Bones and another Enterprise member, a blonde woman who was apparently Marcus's daughter, though that was information Amelia didn't intend to give to Khan, had been busy. They had taken the augments out of the torpedoes and placed in a section of the medical bay, out of sight.

He exited the bridge, and Amelia was left to her thoughts. They would arrive on Earth in a few hours and concern for the Academy and the city filled the air. They would all be well, Starfleet knew what was doing and they had more than enough ship available for dispatch at HQ, prepared to arrive on any city in a few minutes. She took deep breaths, trying not to panic at the thought of her dead family, perishing without her ever saying how much she loved them, flaws and all.

While Amelia didn't want to think about that, she also didn't want to think about Khan right now, and her feelings for him, though Jim insisted she kept an eye on him and verified his whereabouts. She sighed. "Why me, captain?"

"He seems to get along better with you. I need to keep him in line."

"Of course, right away." With a little mocking salute he ignored, she too exited the bridge. Amelia took the turbolift to the medical floor and followed Bones's instructions until she found the area where the pods were kept. There were guards there, even though Jim had said Khan could wander about, but Amelia wasn't surprised at that. And neither was Khan, certainly. No one expected him to be accepted with a warm smile and the keys to the city, and while the red shirts were there to keep an eye out, Khan could still indeed go wherever he pleased.

Amelia crossed the threshold and took a few steps inside, though she stopped to let him have his moment. Khan was so devoted to these men and women, to people he considered his friends, that she couldn't help the feeling of inadequacy. How could she compare to people he knew a lifetime, people with whom he had fought alongside and formed deep bonds with?

She watched his back as he laid a hand on one of the pods, a light careful touch that spoke loudly of things unsaid. He moved just as gracefully as she remembered, with precise steps and no waste of movement or energy.

Amelia was so focused on what he was doing she jumped when his voice rang out in the vast room. "Did he send you to spy on me?"

No need to define 'he'. "Yes." She decided to add, "But I'm not spying, just... looking."

"Hm." He still touched the pod, gazing at the figure lying inside.

She was suddenly stricken by sadness at the sight. "You would really do anything for your family."

He must have sensed something in her voice, because he turned around, and though she was sure Khan could plainly see the melancholy in her expression, she knew there was something more, a yearning to be a part of that, a part of him. Someone he cared about and was the object of such devotion. She was glad he was together with his crew, of course, but the competing feelings were visible on her face. She was always an easy book to read.

"You're one of them too." Khan was serious. Once again she could see what he was guarding within him, what he allowed to escape the confines of his control whenever she needed it the most. It showed on his face, and the intensity of those words echoed in her mind, mellowed her. Happiness burst inside and she smiled, only to frown as sadness replaced any joy she felt, again. This time it was fear that made her miserable. Not of him, but for him, because his crimes will never be pardoned, not after such high treason.

She was sure he saw this too, because he said, "I want to kill Marcus." He left his place by the pod to join her, stopping mere inches away from her. "I do not know how long I can keep my promise to you, Amelia. And if he died, I would be free."

"Not after killing almost all of Starfleet's high command." Her voice was low. "You won't walk away. But you're trying to keep my promise, and that's something. The old John Harrison wouldn't bother, probably." She smiled a little, though it didn't reach her eyes.

"Maybe not, but things change."

She truly hoped they did.


	6. Chapter 6

Jim and Khan were arguing again. This time Jim kept insisting for information on the Klingons, adamant that since Khan had been using their planet for hideout, he most likely had useful data to share. Meanwhile, her former captain maintained a clearly impassive stance on the matter. For him, it didn't matter what Kirk wanted or demanded. In the end, Khan was not built for obedience, as his history with Marcus proved, and he would never cave to Jim's persistent badgering. The way he carried himself spoke volumes of that haughtiness, even when he was standing perfectly still. Shoulders back, neck exposed, as if to show Kirk he didn't fear him, didn't need to comply.

What Amelia was watching was a pissing contest. She rolled her eyes. "If there's something we need to be acquainted with it'd be nice to know now."

Both men turned to look at her.

"I used the area for my purposes, but I never came into contact with the Klingons." As Khan spoke, Jim stared at him with exasperation, and then shifted his eyes to Amelia. She shrugged, as if to say she didn't understand the reason Khan would chose to answer her.

"Right." Jim turned to Khan again. "Am I expected to believe you? In your own words you're better than us at everything, and you're telling me you never came across any Klingon transmission or hideout?"

"That is what I am saying, yes."

Getting something out of him against his will was like pulling teeth. He wouldn't volunteer information if he didn't want to, but Amelia believed he was telling the truth. He was always so stubborn. Khan, well, captain Harrison, could argue with her for hours about the legitimacy of some of Starfleet regulations, or some other insignificant stuff she couldn't even remember. And it would take her hours to try and convince him of things he didn't want to hear or change. He would listen, something she always delighted in, albeit with reluctance, but he would do what he wanted in the end. For the most part. Amelia had always been able to reach into that obstinate part of him and force him to stop for a moment and consider another perspective.

But Jim wouldn't have that luck.

And so the subject was dropped. They were close to Earth now, and she could barely control the fear of what she was going to see. She kept watching the glass as the blue planet came into view, waited on edge as the atmosphere was broken, and when the Enterprise finally reached San Francisco, her worst fears came true.

The battle was already underway.

The Klingons had a small army of vessels, especially designed for war, and the air above the city was clouded by a multitude of dark-colored crafts, shooting against Federation crafts. Some Starfleet ships were performing an evacuation of the city, but they weren't enough for the thousands of inhabitants of San Francisco.

"We must assist with the evacuation. The Enterprise is not prepared to engage in such close combat with dozens of Klingon warships." Spock's voice was calm amidst the nervousness that could be felt on the bridge. "There are Federation vessels for that effect, and they are more than capable of defending the city. However, that will mean nothing if we cannot save the people."

Jim couldn't argue with that. "You're right." Then he turned to the rest of the crew and took the opportunity to address the whole ship, giving orders to help the flight of the citizens. The Enterprise would have to stay in the air, and only the small shuttles would be deployed, since it was too large to safely land in the middle of the city.

Amelia took one of the shuttles with her, with a minimal crew, and headed for the suburbs, though she was hoping her family and gotten out already. If that was the case, plenty of others would still need assistance. She could see the mess from the air, people running and trying to get to safety, cars and suitcases abandoned in the streets, looters already in action. Those crimes of opportunity that relied on mass panic and terror annoyed the hell out of her, but Amelia couldn't worry about crowd control when she had more pressing matters at hand.

She landed on the garden in front of her old house and ordered her men to guide people to the shuttle. Amelia run to the door, knocked, praying no one would answer and, at the same time, wishing they did, since she'd had no other way to know if they were safe. She knocked again and when no one opened the door, she took out her phaser, prepared to blast the lock. That was when her father's voice came through.

"Go away. I have a gun and I'll use it!"

"It's me, Amelia. Open the door." She was relieved out of her mind, though upset that they were still lingering behind. "We have to leave."

He cracked the door open, though the chain was still on. "I'm not going anywhere."

Amelia had to shout to be heard above the racket in the streets. "Dad, there are enemy ships flying over the city, shooting everything that moves. Let's go."

"And there's thieves taking everything they can, stuff that doesn't belong to them. I'm not leaving my house to be pilfered."

She had an urge to shake him out of that idiotic thinking. "If you stay you'll die, and the house won't matter. We're under attack from enemies of the Federation."

His eyes widened but she could still see the indecision. She pushed. "Think of mom, Jessica and Andy. If they die, you'll never forgive yourself. Come on." After a few seconds, he nodded, resigned. He closed the door on her. _Really?_ She was left in the open, surrounded by panicking people. Of course she couldn't blame him for not thinking straight in a situation like this, but even so it was a little callous. He reappeared shortly after, accompanied by the rest of the family, all wide-eyed and carrying large bags.

"That stays." Amelia's statement was met with apathetic gazes, like they'd never heard of such a thing. She rolled her eyes, impatient. "That will only take up space, and we have to fit as many people as we can in the ship."

"I can't leave my things behind." Her mother clutched one of her bags to her chest, and the incredulous look on her face was almost accusatory. "This is not our business, we didn't do anything."

"I don't care. Leave that behind." She forced them out the door, ignored their protests and whines. "Don't be stupid, get a move on."

"Hey, you can't just−"

She cut her father off. "I can say what I want when you're being idiots. Here I am, risking my life to save you all, and you're just a bunch of ungrateful bastards." She couldn't care less if she was hurting their feelings, enough was enough, and she was upset. "You think money matters? Or clothes? Your life is what I care about, even if you don't deserve my loyalty, and I'm doing everything in my power to get you to safety." She lifted the phaser in the air. "I'll put you unconscious and drag you to the shuttle if I have to."

That did it. The bags stayed inside the house, which they locked. As they all made their way across the street, avoiding stationary cars or electronic equipment lying on the ground, and while Amelia beckoned for more people to join them, she was reminded of Khan's loyalty to his own crew, his family in his words. Were some like her own? She couldn't call them undeserving of being saved, of course, she was just angry, but she couldn't deny they were unappreciative of everything she did, and they definitely took her for granted. Would his men show the same consideration for him, thinking that what their leader did was nothing more than his duty and obligation? Or would Khan's sacrifice be seen for what it was, a courageous and loving act for people he considered his own blood, even if they had been apart for hundreds of years?

The shuttle was surrounded by people, and the Starfleet uniforms she came with were already controlling the process of mass departure. Some would have to be directed to other transportations. In the end, Amelia was able to depart without hiccups and any kind of problem, and headed straight for the Enterprise. She might have to come back and help more people.

The Enterprise was still hovering in the air, hidden from enemy fire and protecting the precious cargo that was coming in by the hundreds. Amelia anchored the shuttle and helped carry the passengers out. Her family, along with everyone else she had brought, was to report to the medical bay, where any potential injuries would be attended to by Bones and his staff.

The ship shook and she glided across the floor, landing on a pile of arms, legs and torsos from other people. _What?_

"What's going on?"

"What's happening?"

"Is it the Klingons?"

"Amelia, what the hell is going on here? This was supposed to be safe." Confused, Amelia stood up as quickly as she could, paid no attention to the shouts around her, including her brother's, and dashed for the bridge, intent on discovering the origin of the problem. Once there, she headed straight for Jim.

"Is the ship under attack?"

"Yes." His voice was clipped, tense. "The big ship, the one from before, is pursuing us."

"It appears their leader wants to settle a very personal score." Said Khan, inexpressively.

"Yes, thank you." Jim was using sarcasm as a crutch for his powerlessness, his impotence to stop what was happening. "All right, if he's after us we need to get him away from Earth, so we'll go into warp, with any luck he'll follow us, and we'll fight in space if need be. Hopefully, we'll save−"

The ship quaked again, and Amelia grabbed onto a station to avoid falling once more. The sound of sirens filled the air.

"Captain, one of the levels below was hit, Section 3, shields are dropping, and I think they breached the hull." Sulu's fingers were almost invisible, flying over the buttons.

"Someone check it out, please. If we have a hole I want the situation fixed, seal the area."

"Aye, captain." Amelia headed for the turbolift, thought better of it, stopped, turned back around and grabbed Khan around his arm, pulling him with her. "You're coming too. You need to earn some love around here."

He didn't comment, just let her lead him wherever they were headed. Down below, people were screaming and running around, trying to save themselves. _What's going on here?_ It was hard to spot the problem initially, when smoke filled the air, clutter was scattered all over and lights kept blinking intermittently until some even went out. Then Amelia saw a few crew members assembled by a set of double airtight doors. She approached, Khan trailing behind her, and peeked through the glass. On the other side, from a large gap on the wall of the ship, the dark space was showing. No one was in the area. The sudden suction as the ship got fractured was similar to the opening of a bottle. All the air disappeared, pushing forward, along with every poor soul inside.

There was nothing to do here.

She looked to Khan, needing something, but not completely sure what. Comfort? That must be it. She had lost her previous ship, her crew and the only sense of family she had because of him. Her life hadn't lent itself to a lot of friends, true, but she had seen the same people every day for years and it struck her as sad that she didn't even know most of them. They had been the same to her and Khan, subordinates. People they had to work with and cared for to an extent. It wasn't hard to see she had grown up keeping her distance from people, detaching herself before they did it for her, just like her family had taught her.

Even at the Academy, where she had made friends, there was always a part of her she hadn't given, a part that was afraid to get hurt. And after Khan's betrayal it was even more evident she had been maintaining her distance from those friends, not bothering to make conversation. She had been living in her little world, selfishly, but that was going to change. She wanted to create memories, to meet people, to make friends, to have a family. And Amelia wouldn't screw this up. The Enterprise was her home now and she wanted to keep it.

So she took a deep breath and centered herself, thought strategically about the situation. Even at warp the Klingons were able to follow and inflict damage. Their clearly superior firepower was a hindrance in a one-on-one fight, where the Enterprise was definitely the underdog. They wouldn't call the attack off. In their minds, humans had violated the Organian Peace Treaty, something they didn't take lightly, and enough to start a war. There wasn't much to be done except to destroy the invading ships. Kill the leader and the rest would follow.

Avoid a full-out war.

Khan looked sharply to their left before tackling her to the ground. Amelia fell hard with an 'oof', as her lungs were robbed of air. His weight pressed down on her as the world exploded above them, the sound deafening. The explosion shook the room and killed the people closer to the source. She saw bodies on the ground when she turned her head. Breathing hard, perplexed, Amelia just laid there panting, trying to gather her bearings. Her head was swimming, her whole body trembled from the blast, like it had been hit directly.

Khan shuddered too, his body protecting hers, taking the brunt of the explosion. She felt moisture seeping through her clothes, on her shoulder, but in the near darkness that spread into the room in the aftermath, and while adrenaline coursed through her, she couldn't tell if she had been hit. Her ears buzzed in a consistent noise that gave her vertigo, and she coughed after inhaling dust.

"Are you all right?" Khan's concerned voice broke through the barrier stifling her hearing, and she lifted her hands to touch him, to feel his warm skin in one piece.

"I think so. You?"

"Of course."

_Right_. "Let me up." She accepted his hand and let him hoisted her up. "And thanks. For getting me down before the... thing." She looked around to the destruction.

"You're welcome."

"How did you know?"

"I heard it."

Of course he did, being superhuman and all. Amelia was still dizzy, almost falling again, though she balanced herself and focused on the writhing bodies on the ground. _God_. Bones came in through the door, shouting orders to the set of nurses trailing right behind. Amelia approached him, careful not to trip on the debris.

"Bones, what happened?"

"Amelia. Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

"No, no, just a little out of it."

Bones raised his voice above the moans and screams, before crouching to attend to a blue-uniform man lying prostrate on the ground. "They attacked again, but Jim managed to get us away. They won't be able to finds us at warp so soon."

"You sure? 'Cause they were following us just now."

"I'm hoping, at least. Get outta here, I need to clear the area and you should get some rest."

_Screw that_. Amelia obeyed his request to leave the place, but she intended to return to the bridge. Outside the room, the bright lights of the corridor hurt her eyes and she took a moment to catch her balance.

Dusting herself off while looking down, she saw the red stain of blood on her shoulder. _I can't feel anything wrong_. She touched the spot, but despite the blood, there was no wound, not even damaged fabric. Coldness swept her body as she realized something.

Khan.

Amelia looked at him, worried, and there it was. His skin had been pierced by something he now held in his hand, a piece of debris that he had protected her from. He dropped the bloody object without muttering a sound as she looked on, astonished. That had to have hurt. Why hadn't he said anything?

"Khan, you−"

"I am fine." He looked unconcerned, as usual, but she still felt bad. "I assure you. I heal quite fast." He added when she opened her mouth to comment, so she closed it again. "And you still have work to do."

Amelia blinked. She did, but he was hurt... She hesitated only for a second and then, when he started walking, she followed. He lead her to the bridge. There, Jim informed her of their situation, and since they had managed to slip away from the Klingon ship, now it was the time to lick wounds. The engineering crew would attempt to fix the damage after the medics took everyone out, and they were to continue at warp until they would face the enemy. Then, it would be shields and weapons to the max and good luck.

Right now, they couldn't do much but wait and regroup. She should have gone to see her family but she couldn't face their questions now, and the area they were in had been untouched, so they were fine.

"I wish we could deploy the shuttles, take the civilians out. Bring them back to Earth." She was facing forward, watching the dark space in the large window, as it flew by.

"The Klingon ship would destroy them all like flies." Khan was only voicing what she already knew, but still... Amelia shook her head and focused on what she could do.

She turned to Khan. "Let me clean that wound for you."

"There is no need, I am perfectly fine."

"Just do me the favor."

He was so stubborn. True, his body could repair itself faster than anything she had ever seen, but he had been hurt protecting her. The least she could do was dress his wound. Amelia dragged him to her quarters and that was the moment his protests died down. _Men_. She didn't have a couch or anything, so he sat on the bed, something that made her a little uncomfortable. Despite the current problem at hand, despite the fact that she was tired and worried and the ship was full of holes, her mind still found a way to be suddenly busy with all sorts of thoughts.

_Oh, boy_.


	7. Chapter 7

Although I decided to raise the rating to M, I don't think the chapter is that explicit.

* * *

It didn't help Amelia's cause that he had to take his shirt off if she wanted to see what she was doing. Sighing at the sight and trying not to stare at the painfully obvious perfection of his pale skin, Amelia tried to be quick. Her hands slipped up a little now and again, touched more than just his wounds, but he never complained. In fact, he didn't utter a single sound from the moment he sat down until the moment she finished her task.

She didn't dare to look at his face, aware that hers was probably flushed. Her breathing was shallow, her hands trembled. She liked Khan, more so than John Harrison, although, of course, John Harrison wasn't a murderer. But he hadn't given her the time of day before, except for work-related issues and chess. And he wasn't exactly a conversationalist while playing, either. But Khan no longer felt the need to pretend and simply acted the way he wanted, around her and others. And right now he seemed to want her.

This time, Amelia wanted to be the one to initiate contact.

She leaned forward and watched his eyes change to focus completely on her, his features serene but intense, waiting for her to make a move. Her stomach fluttered and her skin tingled as she kissed him lightly. Her hands moved to his shoulders, his soft skin betraying the hardness beneath, velvet and steel, a contrast that was so _him_. His own hands strayed to her waist and she could tell he was holding back, waiting for her to be sure. She was. He had her heart already, had it even before she knew he was Khan, and she had his. He hadn't said it but Amelia knew by his actions and the tenderness he displayed only for her.

Climbing to his lap, she held him close and deepened the kiss, and felt his hands around her as well, tightening, as if he couldn't bear to let her go. Then those hands slid lower, past the skirt of her uniform, until it rested on the bare skin of her thighs, tracing patterns there. Amelia trembled and pushed on his shoulders, willing him to lie down. He did, and she took a moment to enjoy the view, one she never thought it would come true, not in a million years. He smiled, as if he knew how perfect she found him, how she had longed for this. _Arrogant bastard._ She smiled back and kissed him again.

Amelia felt the exact moment he could no longer ignore his dark urges. The need built, showed in the way his hands tensed on her skin, in his growl as he turned them over and caught her wrists in his hands, forcing them above her head. Vulnerable, she lay there panting, the softness of the bed at her back, his weight on her body a comfort and a thrill at the same time. And when he kissed her, he was not gentle.

Too far gone for such a thing, Khan pinned her down, prevented her from moving. Amelia knew he liked the control so she let him have it. She liked it too. The dominating brushes of his tongue made her groan, desire unfurling as he circled both her wrists with one hand, used the other to lift her skirt, slowly. She gasped for air when he left her mouth and trailed her skin with hard open-mouthed kisses down the column of her throat. If he wasn't more careful he'd leave marks there.

And she wouldn't mind one bit.

Amelia tried to get him to release her. She struggled, wanting to touch him, but he only gripped harder, fingers tightening painfully on her thigh and biting on the soft skin of her wrists. A warning. He was so much stronger, it was impossible for her to get away unless he let her.

The door opened, shaking her out of the almost dreamlike state she was in, and a far away part of her was angry at the nerve. The closest part, however, couldn't care less if anyone saw what they were doing. Common sense won. She pushed him off with her knees, though he only lifted his head from her neck to look at the intruders. Great, her freaking family. And here she was, lying in bed with a half-naked man with a hand almost up her skirt.

Khan let out a low growl at the intrusion, and this time it wasn't playful.

"What's this?" Her mother was offended, shocked even.

_What does it look like?_

"Amelia, what is it with you? What..." Her father's voice trailed off.

She rubbed her eyes when Khan released the grip on her wrists and sat up on the bed. Amelia did the same, though she first smoothed her skirt. Embarrassment was a given, since no one wanted the parents to see such behaviors, but then again, she was a grown woman in her room, and they were the ones trespassing.

"What are you doing here?" She was annoyed at the infringement on her private life.

"We came here to see you, but I'll say, this wasn't what I was expecting." Jessica came in through the door too. She paused when she saw the scene, and her eyes kept wandering to Khan's naked chest.

"Get out. Now." If Amelia's voice was more than rude, she didn't care.

"Your family?" Khan's tone sounded mildly interested, but the hard undercurrents beneath that vague interest indicated he was irritated at them. _ You and me both_.

"Not at this moment." She told him. Then she turned to her parents and sister. "Leave, now. I didn't give you permission to come here as you please."

"Do we need permission to see our daughter?" Her mother was indignant.

"Don't I knock on your door before going in? Just go."

"Who is _that_?"

"Go!"

When they finally left, though not without stealing a few more glances, especially Jessica, Amelia fell down on the bed, groaning. How infuriating they were. The least they could do was thank her from saving their lives, not barging in her space whenever they felt the need.

"Interesting." Was the only thing Khan said.

"Not really. Annoying is more like it."

She made to get up from the bed, but he grabbed her arm, threw her back down. "Now where do you think you're going?"

She gulped, trapped by his smoldering gaze. "Nowhere?"

"That's right." He bent down to kiss her again.

Amelia tried to regain her sanity. She kissed him for a few moments, but then leaned back and touched a hand to his mouth, stopping his advances. "Maybe I should go back, we've been here a while. You're obviously feeling fine, so..." She put her other hand on his chest, pushed upwards to give him the hint to move away. He did so, with a surprisingly easy acquiescence that left her suspicious, though she didn't say anything. His expression didn't help. The look he gave her almost set her ablaze by its intensity, assured her that he wasn't done.

Whatever he wanted had to be put on hold when Jim's voice came through the communications device.

"Amelia, are you there?"

She reached for it, ignored Khan's narrowed eyes. "Yes." Her voice was breathless. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, just need you to check some figures in the machine room. Confirm some numbers. Just make sure everything is fine after the attack." He gave his instructions, which she almost didn't catch, still winded and distracted from Khan's attentions.

"Right. I'll check with you soon enough." She turned the device off and straightened her messy hair in one of the mirrors. "Gotta go." Amelia didn't even look back at Khan when she threw him her farewell, afraid of her uncontrollable need for him and what she'd do if she stayed.

Problem was, he followed her out the room.

Amelia completed her task in the empty machine room and reported back to Jim. There was only Khan and her there, and while he'd waited politely while she did her job, glancing around the room in apparent indifference, she wasn't completely sure for how much longer he'd stay courteous.

That suspicion was confirmed when Amelia tried to leave and Khan followed again, his intent clear. She backed away, avoided his hand when he made to touch her shoulder, watched as his features darkened, inflamed by the way she was playing hard to get. Only she wasn't. Was she? Amelia couldn't deny she loved the way he was so completely focused on her, like no one else existed, like there was no other world outside the room, no problems awaiting them both. And like he couldn't seem to be able to leave her alone.

His voice, when he spoke, was husky and almost threatening. "Run."

"W−what?" She stammered, not understating.

"Run from me, Amelia." Her name rolled off his tongue with a promise. _I'll catch you_, it seemed to tell her, _and you'll like it when I do._

"What are you playing at, Khan?"

He took another step forward while she stepped back, uneasy of his intentions.

"Are you afraid of me, Amelia?"

_No._ Only that wasn't the whole truth. She was, a little bit, at least in this moment. And it was exhilarating. She didn't want to admit that his command sent tingles of heat down her body, didn't want him to know the extent of his power over her. But then she realized she had power over him as well. Amelia could see it in the need he so openly displayed for her, the unflinching gaze with which he held her, the way his eyes never strayed from her.

Amelia took off, no particular destination in mind, and within seconds she heard him behind her, his steps echoing as he tracked her like prey. She turned a corner, leaving bleeping machines and water pipes in her wake. She was lost in the immense gloomy area, sidetracked by the man pursuing her and by the confusing dim lighted room, but she didn't seem to be able to stop, and what was more important, didn't want to.

Her heart was beating fast in her chest and excitement coursed through her veins, as Amelia kept running away from him, certain that she'd be helpless the moment he caught her. He was lethal, his power overwhelming and now he wanted nothing more than to turn that power on her, chase her, hunt her, until she was completely at his mercy.

She had to run faster than him to be able to keep ahead, his stride much longer than hers, the sounds of his pursuit bearing down on her. Amelia cut to the left, entered an even darker part of the machine room, hesitated as where to go next.

That hesitation cost her.

Khan caught her by the hair rather roughly, and she yelped as pain prickled her scalp, though that pain was made sweeter when his free arm enveloped her waist, pulled her hard against him. He was breathing fast, his breath falling in her ear as the rich sound had her shaking. The uncertainty of what he wanted, of what he was going to do, made her afraid. Afraid and eager.

She struggled a little, though her heart was not in it, not really. Amelia just wanted to see how far she could push him. Mindful that she was playing with fire, she thrashed her arms around, kicked her legs, fought for release under the crushing weight of his arm. He didn't let go, just tightened his hold and snarled in a low, intimidating sound. The fingers in her hair pulled her head back, exposing the vulnerable skin of her throat to his mouth. His teeth ran the length, teased her, and she had a feeling he wasn't going to go easy on her.

And she was right.

This time, when he bit down again, right on the spot where her shoulder met her neck, he hurt her. She let out a strangled moan, unable to contain the sound any longer, the pain and pleasure too much. Her hands grabbed the arm around her waist, nails digging in his skin. Khan didn't seem to notice, not even when she drew blood. Now they both had marks.

He led her to a wall, his mouth still at her throat in a dominating hold, his whole body pressing into hers. Then that pressure became overwhelming when she realized she had nowhere to run now, stuck between him and the hard wall. She was truly at his mercy.

A low rumble of pleasure left his throat, had her shuddering from the way he laved the sore spot with his tongue, how he kissed it afterwards.

"Khan." Her panting voice was a mere whisper, pleasure searing her when the arm at her waist moved lower, down her side, her hipbone, under her skirt. His fingers skimmed the inside of her thigh, the touch on her sensitive skin making her muscles clench.

When that touch turned more intimate, she shuddered, shocked at his boldness, but even more so at her own reaction. Feeling his hand there, against her, even if she still had a layer of clothing to protect her, was disconcerting, but she let him. In fact, she encouraged him with the sound that came out of her next. Embarrassed, Amelia wanted to close her legs, force his hand away, but couldn't. Her head was still bent back and she turned it sideways, as far as he let her, her flushed skin burying in his neck, his masculine scent tickling her nose.

Vulnerable, unable to escape, she couldn't do more than react to his touch, gasping and whimpering as he turned more forceful, that grip on her hair tightening an additional measure, enough for the twinge of pain to send tingles of hot pleasure to her belly. Then, when Amelia could not take it anymore, he stopped. She felt thwarted only for a moment.

Khan released her, turned her around to face him, and she wanted to hide, prevent him from seeing the way she must look, flushed and exposed. He forced her to gaze at him when he lifted her chin, and that's when she saw how _he_ looked, the unbridled need obvious in his expression, and that emotion she hadn't dared to name before was there too. She realized what it was quickly, because she felt the same. Was it possible that all those years she worked for him, all that time when he hadn't even deigned himself to call her by name, he had been hiding something that powerful? She lifted her face to kiss him and he crushed his lips to hers, kissing with a passion that left her seeing stars.

Her arms slid around his neck to pull him against her and his hands slid lower again, only this time he bunched up her skirt, let his fingers caress her belly before shocking her yet again by ripping her underwear away, the sound loud in the silent room. He let the fabric fall to the ground, still kissing her.

Amelia tried to open his trousers, but her trembling fingers didn't allow that. He did it for her, and she didn't care, not when he quickly lifted her up and pushed himself into her in a single thrust. She moaned loudly, her head clearing of all thoughts, hands gripping his shoulders hard, legs around his waist.

She moved to accept him and his powerful surges, his mouth on hers, his hands gripping tight. Then he buried his face in her neck an in that moment he wasn't an enemy, a stranger, anymore.

Khan was the man she loved, and he was hers.


End file.
